Doothless
by Anti-Cosmo Fangirl
Summary: A short story about a Night Fury.
1. Chapter 1

He walked down the hallway, blindfolded, guard dragons on either side so he wouldn't collide with anything. He took a deep breath. Today, the elder Furies, the ones that had been alive since the dawn of time, would give him "the test." It was trials that determined everything from athletic ability to intelligence. He was blindfolded because it was a sacred ceremony, he couldn't even see the location where it was held. He would be blind the way there and back. "The test" determined what rank a Night Fury was. Not that there were very many of them. Their race was meant to be strong and flawless. When they hatched, the parents abandoned them, only the resilient would fend for themselves and survive. Then if they made it to the age of 13, they were given a mentor. The mentor's job was to prepare them for "the test." He sighed. He had been assigned the bitterest Fury he had ever met. His mentor's name was Cyanbavark. It meant Bloodbane. He tried to remember all the lessons he had been taught. If he could remember between being yelled at and getting called an incompetent failure. He had tried everything to try to get past Cyan's hostile attitude, playing nice, defiance, staying silent, and even ignoring him, nothing ever worked. He had been taught the levels he would be classified at after the test. If he got higher than average (getting even average was very hard because of the flawless race belief) then he would be offered the highest of ranks, starting with being a general who controlled several tribes of Furies, and as he aged he would be offered higher and higher ranks until he would be part of the elders themselves. The next level was average, where he would be offered the rank of a mentor or keeper of scrolls. A librarian. Something he didn't particularly want to be. He could decline any of the ranks he was offered, and the position would be open for the next 2000 years. Not long for a Fury. Most did decline in hopes that they would get a rider, a bond that could never be broken; it was every Fury's dream. Or he could leave; survive on his own if he was given one of these offers. If he passed with high scores, and decided to live life as a loner, the elders would grant him his own territory. That's what he hoped to achieve. If he ever accepted one of the ranks, though, he would have to train with his mentor for 2 years to prepare for it. He would rather have a wing torn off than have to spend another 2 years with Cyan. The test not only decided rank, though, the elders named you. Of course, it just so happened that your mentor gave you your last name. The better you do on "the test" the more noble your name was. Every name meant a word in Dragonese. The last name Cyan had given him? Musuraga. Mushroom. He wanted a proud name to balance out for the ridiculous last one. Then there was the last level, below average. If you failed too many… they killed you. Because you were not worthy of being a Night Fury. He breathed in deeply. One of the guards pulled of his blindfold. He was in a cave. "Do you need a moment to prepare yourself, or would you like to see the elders presently?" "I will see the elders now." He might as well get it over with. "alright." The guards opened two wide double doors, led him in, and then closed the doors. The celling was high above, and so were the elders, all sitting on cliffs that were jutting out. "Great elders, it is such an honor to be graced with your presence." The elders shared looks of disapproval. These were the words Cyan had told him to say! What was going on? It then was clear to him. Cyan wouldn't want him to come back for 2 more years. He had taught him wrong! He was going to fail! But if he told the elders that his mentor had told him wrong, he would look like a moron! He repeated the phrase, in dragonese this time; not English, in hopes of redemption. One of the elders nodded. He bit his bottom lip.

He had failed. He knew it. _He had failed. _He wondered what death would feel like. He hoped they would make it quick. He walked back into the elder's chamber, with a heavy heart. Their faces were serious, as always. One opened her mouth. "Wait!" he yelled, in flawless dragonese. "In my defense… Cyanbavark, my mentor, gave me the wrong lessons, I apologize for my ignorance." The elders looked at one another, muttering something. The female from before flew down to meet him. "Upon observation, it seemed something was amiss, we do not know if your story is true, but we have made an exception in the rules for you. You mustn't tell anyone we have done this. You must leave our lands, do not return, and do not interfere with our kind. You are not allowed a mate later in life, either, or dragonets of your own." He hung his head, ashamed. "Depart now." He turned. "Wait, ma'am, what's my name?" she stopped, "oh, yes, your name, you may not change it; you must go by this name. As a mark of shame, your name is Doothless." NO! Doothless meant idiot, doofus, coward… it meant total and complete failure. He hung his head, humiliated, and slowly forced himself to walk out.


	2. Chapter 2

A man walked down the streets, a fairly unusual sight in Anti-Fairy-World. He was tall, pale skinned and huge muscles rippled under his white skin. He had black hair, with vast amounts of grey in it. It was tied in a braid that fell down his back. To any he might look like a human, but he was much more. His kind was almost as uncommon here as a human might be. Nothing about him seemed sporadic, except for his limping gait, due to a prosthetic leg. He walked up to a street vendor, ordered a hamburger and fries, and sit down at a table. At the same time, another human looking man walked by, bumping the table. While grumbling unhappily, the man looked down, to find half of his burger gone. "Hey, you, wait!" his deep, gruff voice boomed. The other wouldn't turn around. He ran up to him, "Haven't you ever been told not to steal peoples things?!" He turned around, "you got a problem, old man?" he sneered. He was a teen, but amazingly tall, almost as tall as the older man who stood in front of him. His black, glossy hair had blue streaks in it, and it stood up in spikes, making an apex at the top. He was wearing a holey pair of dirty blue jeans and a tuxedo t-shirt that was in the same condition. He also had a triangle-shaped goatee. "You could have asked for food." The older man said, looking at his condition, a look of displeasure from the teen's rude remark. "Sink down to begging? From an old man?" he laughed, "you're quite the comedian." "You don't know who you're messing with, boy." The older man growled. "I think it would be the other way around, geezer." "I'm 43!" "Million?" The older man turned to leave, "next time, spend what money you have on food, not getting your hair dyed." He started to walk back to the table, in his usual limping stride. "Awww! Look the old man has a booboo! Did he forget his walker and fall down?!" he mocked in a baby voice. That did it. He turned around and knocked the teen down. "For your information, boy" he spat the word out, "I served in four wars, and 50 thousand years in the army, you have no right to disrespect me!" "Admit it, then, how old are you?" the older man sighed. "I am 430,000." "Geezer." He grabbed the teen and slammed him into the wall "who are you." "Jake," The boy said. "I want your real name. Where did you come from?" the teen was frustrated now too, but he seemed to be trying to hold it in. "my name is Jake Simon, I'm from Montgomery, Alabama." "You're a convincing liar. Now tell me the truth!" he pushed him harder into the wall." The teen sighed in defeat, and then squeaked. "My name is Loovroam.(Lou-ve-roam)" "Lavaplain." The older man mused, then his eyes narrowed, "you better tell the truth, boy, I could stay here all day. A couple Anti-Fairies glanced at them, but none stayed to watch, two humans fighting wouldn't be worth their time. "Tell me yours first." The teen said. The man gave him a suspicious look, and then said. "My name is infagarakahpasky (in-fah-gar-ack-ah-pa-sky) . I am the Inferno of the Sky." The teen gulped, the longer the name in dragonese, the more powerful the dragon. Then a sly smile came on his face. "I am DOOHTLESS MUSHURAGA! And I'm proud of it." The man dropped him. "That's more like it." He grumbled, then turned, "call me Zypher, boy." "I don't think so." The teen grew a tail and wings. Zypher's eyes narrowed. He swung the tail around, knocking Zypher flat, who then roared as he grew a tail and wings of his own. They were drawing a crowd, now. "I'm about to show you, Doothless, why they call me the Inferno of the Sky," He rumbled. "the last time I checked, _old man_, you were the inferno of the ground!" he laughed and took to the sky. Zypher was close behind, but when he got airborn, his half of a tail jerked up, and into his face, almost teasing him, and he spiraled back to the ground. He roared, and Doothless laughed hysterically above. "You stupid old coot, you can't even fly without a rider!" "At least my name doesn't mean coward mushroom! You were banished from the Fury's world, weren't you?!" Doothless roared, dove down to a produce stand, and proceeded to hurl the rotten ones at Zypher. He hit his mark most of the time, and soon the older dragon was covered in various fruits and vegetables. "Flightless old man! Flightless old man!" he teased over and over again. Zypher, now blind with rage, flung himself into the sky again, getting higher that last time before he crashed into the street, making a crater. When the dust cleared, a black, long necked dragon stood in his place. "Ooooh! A purebred Fury! ... Too bad you're defective," Doothless burst into laughter again. Zypher roared and spit fire bolts at the young dragon. "I'll show you defective!" "Oh, wow! Your voice is all weird and squeaky, like a cartoon character! Did you know your head looks like a giraffe's?!" he dove back to the street, getting more rotten fruit, covering Zypher with it. A few Antis were laughing, enraging Zypher further. "You are such a stupid old-" he froze paralyzed in mid-air, and an invisible force brought him to the ground. The crowds parted for someone. An Anti stepped forward, hand outstretched, immobilizing Doothless. "Let me at him! Let me at him, please," Zypher's eyes were narrowed, fangs barred. "_Not yet_, Zypher, he is a fine specimen, I wish to study him." He dropped Doothless from his magical grasp. The Fury looked up, "Anti-Cosmo." He hissed. "Now, dragon come along, and behave… or I will make you very… uncomfortable." His claws extended and bolts of lightning shot between the tips. He laughed maniacally. Doothless got up, carefully, if Anti-Cosmo could use a paralyzing spell on a Night Fury, he must be awfully powerful. And he was. Doothless had heard the stories. Anti-Cosmo beckoned with his finger, turned, and began to walk in the other direction. Zypher shot him a glance that was filled with many meanings and followed his rider. Doothless hung his head, and slowly followed. "Coward. Idiot. Failure." He mumbled to himself. Anti-Cosmo turned, making sure he was coming, then continued on. "Prisoner." Doothless whispered.


End file.
